The Anti Social Network Chapter 1
by Richards9999
Summary: A Queen Consolidated technology Expo brings an array of unsavoury characters to Starling City
1. Chapter 1

There was always the hunt, he thought as his feet pounded the pavement, damp from the recent shower. Perhaps, he thought, he lived for the hunt. The feeling that flooded his system with adrenaline and drove him onwards in pursuit if the prey. Perhaps, he thought, the hunt was the fuel for his existence. The reason he'd retained his mantle as protector of the city. Perhaps it reminded him of those sessions long back which sharpened his skills, reflexes and instincts on that desolate island. Perhaps it was the baited hook which drifted through the night air and snared him into pursuing a quarry. Whatever the reason, that was where he found himself: in pursuit of a felon.

The street lights burst through the India ink blackness of the Starling City's night, washing the uneven pavings of the back alleys with fluorescent orange and yellows. Shadows belonging to the ordinary world around him were transformed into those of fantastic creatures or Neolithic structures. If he'd had the time maybe he would have stopped and taken note, instead he sped after his prey, eager to end the cause quickly and painlessly.

His bow had already sung tonight: once releasing an arrow that pinned one of the would be robbers of a seven-eleven to a wall and another which had unleashed an experimental bola arrow at the feet of another would be thief. This one hadn't been as successful. He had misjudged the angle slightly and it had ensnared a lamppost. The other thief had then taken off, hence the sprint through the back alleys.

The pursued man shot a glance over his shoulder at the hooded figure following him, then took a sharp right turn into a smaller alley filled with discarded boxes and other assorted detritus. The hooded man adjusted his feet and, instead of following the thief into the alley, leapt upwards and caught the railings of fire escape. His momentum allowed his legs to sweep in a majestic arc and bring his body over the railing on to the fire escape'a metal floor. In the alley below him the man he was chasing stumbled over countless boxes as the light grew dimmer and dimmer. Seeing an opportunity, the archer noticed another arrow on his bow string and readied a shot. The string tensed in his fingers and his sighted the man in the murky light of the alley below. His fingers twitched as he readied to release the arrow; he exhaled to steady his body, and -

"Hey!" came a woman's voice in his ear. "Are you even still alive?"

Oliver instantly recognised the voice of his assistant Felicity Smoak over the com link earpiece he wore. He was conscious that he hadn't checked in with her since he began his pursuit and was also conscious that he had somewhere he needed to be.

"Kind of busy right now," he whispered back through the microphone attract he'd to his throat. "In the middle of something."

"Really?!" she asked, he could hear her eyebrow arching in sarcasm. "Only I thought you had a dinner date with the Mega Rich Club of America tonight. Although I could be wrong."

"I'm on my way," he chuckled. "Just need to take out the trash."

"We'll don't be long," Felicity said, urgency crawling into her voice. "People are asking after you."

"Who?" The hooded man asked, then added quickly: "Hold on.. "

He adjusted his grip on the bow slightly and resighted his target. Then exhaled again and released the string letting the arrow fly into the darkness. It found its target, hitting the man square in the back. The arrow's impact sending him sprawling to the ground. However instead of the shaft imbedding itself between the man's shoulder blades, it exploded engulfing him in a green cloud which hardened instantaneously into a shell. The man struggled beneath it but was obviously trapped as the shell had attached itself to him and the floor of the alley. Oliver smiled. The new 'trick' arrows were working a treat.

"Hey!" called Felicity in his ear again. "Don't just cut me off!"

"Relax," Oliver whispered, swinging down into the alley to inspect his handy work., "I'm through here I'll be with you shortly."

"Good," Smoak snapped back. "Hurry up. There's an old guy trying to hit on me."

Oliver chuckled to himself and tapped the translucent cocoon that encased the man he'd been chasing. The chemical polymer in the experimental arrow seemed to work well, he thought. Maybe this is another first for Queen Consolidated: a gas that turned solid when it comes into contact with air. He thought of the practical applications and the markets that he could exploit. Then he remembered Felicity.

"This is a rich old guy?" Oliver smirked, biting his lip in an effort not to let his face crack into a braid smile. Whilst he didn't know the audience in the function Felicity was at, he knew the type of people that usually gravitated to them.

"Why the hell does that matter?" she snapped sharply. "He's gross. He has desert syndrome."

Oliver, climbing back up the fire escape and toward the building's roof, was puzzled by this response. "Desert Syndrome?" he quizzed. Perhaps this was a new condition that afflicted older people. He had visions of the man having a skin compliant that forced his face to resemble the Sahara, or a pigmentation issue that made him look yellow.

"You know," Smoak muttered back, "wandering palms."

Oliver, pulling himself onto the roof of the building, let out a belly laugh. An image filled his head of Felicity squirming, drink in one hand clutch bag in the other trying to evade the tactile gent that was talking to her.

"I'm on my way," he said. "I just need to call Lance."

John Diggle was waiting in the foyer of the Starling City Plaza when Oliver stepped out of a cab. He approached his boss with a mildly amused look and offered a curt handshake.

"Took your time," the security man said, raising an eyebrow. "People were beginning to doubt you were coming."

"You know how bad the traffic gets downtown," said Oliver, a grin spreading over his face, "and anyway, Felicity can take care or herself."  
"You'd think," Diggle grinned back. Oliver patted him on the shoulder and directed him to the elevator. Their images were reflected in the mirrored interior of the steel box and Oliver took the time to regard his appearance: black tux, white shirt, bow tie. All present and correct. Okay, he thought, he could have shaved but, hey, not everyone had been tackling armed robbers tonight, right? Gimme a break. Diggle was dressed similarly. However, unlike Oliver, his friend always had an effortless look about his appearance. Like he had some machine he just stepped into that removed the excess wrinkles from the fabric of his clothes, that buffed his shoes and aced the lint. Oliver had put it down to his military training but it was more than that. The guy had style, he had to admit that.

"So," Oliver said presently, fingering his close cropped hair in the mirror gingerly, " what do I need to know about this soirée so that I neither embarrass myself or Queen Consolidated."

"Okay," Diggle said, "this is a basic tech expo launch party. You've got sellers and buyers mingling informally. You know, drinks, canopies -"

"Canapés," corrected Oliver.

"There's a difference?" shrugged Diggle.

"Pretty much," said Oliver. "Sorry Dig, carry on."

"Yeah, anyway," the other man continued, "this is where the basis for deals is done. The exhibitions and lectures over the next week give people chance to showcase work, but here is where the big deals are done in principle."

"So I'm not buying anything tonight," said Oliver. "Just networking and giving a promise to look at stuff."

"That's it," said Diggle.

"And I agreed to come because..." Oliver offered a look to Diggle which begged an answer.

"Because," Diggle grinned back," Queen Consolidated helped the city bid for the Expo and is the main sponsor. So it's through a sense of duty and trust. Or because you'll be screwed if you don't."

"Yeah," Oliver muttered. "Sounds about right."

The elevator chimed and the doors sprang open at the conference floor of the Plaza. The room seemed to be the size of a small aircraft hanger and filled with men dressed as Diggle and Oliver were and women who looked as though they had just stepped out of a dress shop window. Floating between them, balancing trays of drinks and canapés, were waiting staff dressed in white quarter jackets. Classical music swelled from hidden speakers but was not enough to mask the hum of conversation that was being emitted from the crowd.

A waiter swung passed with a tray of drinks and another offered a display of small pastries. Oliver picked up a glass of champagne and nodded a thanks to the waiter. Diggle selected what looked like a bite size pizza and popped it into his mouth. It tasted like eating a worn insole he decided and, once the waiter had moved one, discretely moved the object to a paper napkin and then into a nearby bin.

A figure detached themselves from a crowd and made a bee line form the two men. The determination in her walk and the look of annoyance on her face made Oliver feel as is this wasn't going to be a pleasant meeting.

"Felicity!" Oliver said, thrusting out his arms to embrace her as a form of greeting. "How good to see you!"

The blonde woman glared back. Her eyes narrowing to slits and her mouth pouting. It was obvious that she was not amused. However, demeanour aside, Oliver couldn't help but notice, well, her. Her long blonde her had been swept up into a Grecian goddess style with ringlets framing her pale face. The black dress she wore almost touched the ground and plunged deeply at the front with a regiment of pleats and ruffles disguising the curves that definitely there. It had no back, showcasing the contours of Felicity's body. The clinging fabric moved in sympathy with her which, had she been in a better mood, would have been farrow graceful and fluid.

"You look amazing, by the way," Oliver whispered to her, awe overcoming him. It had been he, of course, who had suggested she attend this function, and it was also he who had suggested she dress up. Although the results were not as he expected. He genuinely thought she looked fantastic.

"No wonder old guys are hitting on you," he added just to dampen the rogue feelings that just surfacing.

She fixed him with a hard look. Without her glasses, and with this make over, her face seemed different. Less familiar, less business-like. He knew all too well how attractive she was and many was the time he had had to check himself to maintain a professional relationship with her.

"Don't say I was doing it 'for the good of the team'," she said tersely, her finger jabbing him in the chest. "It wasn't funny. You get to throw down with petty crooks and dodge bullets. But let me tell you, dodging the fingers of a determined old codger is some feat too!"

"I wouldn't doubt it," Oliver said, barely able to stifle a grin, and holding up his hands in a show of defeat. He met her eyes and saw that there was no anger there. Their were soft and clear and, despite her outward demeanour, she meant him no malice.

"And don't forget it," she said, a smile almost breaking through on her lips too. Her tongue almost made an appearance too: cameoing on the ridge of her upper lip as she retained eye contact. Which was suddenly broken.

"Can we just back up here?" Diggle asked, somewhat uncomfortable with the tableaux before him. "Petty crooks? Is that what you are now, a foot cop with a bow?"

"Every little helps," said Oliver, forcing himself to drag his eyes from Felicity and onto Diggle. "Anyway, I was in the area. I thought I could help. I gave the details to Lance. He'll clean up the mess." Then Oliver added as an aside: "Plus it gave me the chance to use the new polymer arrow."

"I take it it worked?" asked Smoak distantly.

"Like a charm," Queen swung his gaze back to her and grinned like a schoolboy.

"Boys and their toys," she muttered and shook her head. Her ringlets swirled like minor cyclones as she did so, again drawing Oliver's attention to her face.

"That's me," he countered, still smiling." So, coming back to business, what's the 411?"

"I thought you'd never ask," snorted Diggle, and placed a hand on Oliver's shoulder to manoeuvre him to face various parts of the room. " Like I said before: buyers and sellers. Over here," he aimed Oliver at the right of the room, " mainly tech guys: computers and telecoms. Over here," now the left, " chemicals and pharmaceuticals. Low grade and high grade people. They tend to gravitate to their own. No products just talk."

"Anyone I should know about?" said Oliver searching the crowds for anyone whom he recognised from the trade magazines or the news journals that usually piled up on his desk.

"There are a few people of note," Diggle replied and pointed at a throng of people. " The lady over there with pale green dress is Pamela Isley, a botanist."

"Oliver isn't one for flowers," trilled Felicity, fixing Queen with a tight smile. He smirked.

"I'll give her a miss," he said. "Anyone else?"

"Yeah," replied Diggle, somewhat wary of Smoak's ire. "Over there are technology expert Hector Hammond and talking to him Jervis Tetch."

"Or Jervis Letch!" spat Felicity. Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"I take it you two have met," he said, amusement washing his face. "Maybe you should introduce us."

"Yeah?" Smoak said, her arms folded tightly across her chest, "That's not going to happen. Although if you want to talk to Officer Lance about him you can take his fingerprints from my back."

"I'll have a quiet word," Diggle said to her. Then, turning back to Oliver he said: "There was someone else but I can't see him."

"Oh," replied Queen, "who's that?"

Then, from the floor below them came a slight disturbance. They looked up to see the crowds of people being pushed to one side to allow a man and his entourage passage. Statements like "out of the way" and "coming through" were uttered as a security team cleared a route for the parade. In the middle was tall man whose muscular frame was barely hidden by his elegantly tailored tuxedo. His age, however, was difficult for Oliver to determine due to his completely bald head.

"Who's that?" repeated Oliver with revised meaning.

"That's the guy you should meet," whispered Diggle.

The big man barked orders at his courtiers and began to walk up the stairs towards Oliver and his friends.

"Queen!" the man barked when he was face to face with Oliver. The other man's eyes bore into him, as if attempting to burn two holes in Oliver's skull.

"And you are?" asked Oliver extending a hand in a formal gesture. The other man ignored it.

"Luthor," he snarled back. "Lex Luthor. You've heard of me, I'm sure. I own most of the tech businesses from Metropolis to Central City. And those I don't aren't worth owning."

"Sorry," said Oliver, adopting a blank look,"what did you say your name was? I've been away for a while. I'm not up to speed on the social scene."

"Lex. Luthor," the other man said slowly and loudly. "You're not amusing Queen. Only a man so unsure of his own worth would resort to crude attempts at humour to gain acceptance from their, albeit meagre, entourage."

"I was being serious," shrugged Oliver, " but hey, you know best, right?"  
"Don't push your luck, Queen," spat Luthor. "I'm actually the main reason people decided to come to this second rate side show. If you're still around later I will be demonstrating my new network relay system. You will learn a lot."

"I thought this was a networking session," offered Felicity. "Not a show and tell."

Luthor cocked an eyebrow at her and snorted: "As I said, honey, I'm the reason these people are here. Don't think for a second people come to Starling City due to the lure of Queen here, toots. I mean even Wayne didn't bother turning up."

"I'll bear it in mind," she said back, trembling slightly at Luthor's tirade.

"You do that," the big man turned his back, made a gesture to his perimeter of people and began to walk away. Then, mid stride, he turned and spoke directly to Felicity: "And if you're looking for a career advancement, look up Lex Corp in Metropolis. There's always openings in the secretarial pool."

Then he was gone, flooding back into the crowd on the floor below.

"Wasn't he a treat!" Diggle chuckled and turned to Oliver. Queen's jovial mood had obviously been eroded by by the meeting with Luthor. His friend's face now bore deep furrows in his wrinkles brow and pursed lips of thought. Oliver's arm snakes out and he squeezed Felicity's shoulder. He could feel her still shaking after her encounter with the big man and he knew his efforts to calm her wouldn't go very far. He tried anyway.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly. His eyes meeting her's briefly as she broke her gaze away from the retreating magnate.

"Yeah," she stammered, her voice breaking slightly as tears threatened to appear at her eyes. "I'm fine. I've just never met a man so, well, rude."

"Yeah," added Diggle. "What's his beef? The guy's a jerk."

"And a powerful one at that," murmured Oliver. "And let's not forget, John, you wanted me to meet him."

"We all make mistakes," Diggle pleaded in defence, his hand splayed in capitulation as he shrugged his shoulders.

Oliver grinned. "Okay," he said, "let's mingle. Let's see what other crack pots and crazies are out there."

They all nodded and walked across the room to where the rest of the convention awaited.

By and large, the party (because, essentially that's what it was) was just as Oliver had expected. A throng of inventors, engineers and general oddities shook his hand and pitched him their ideas whilst he stood before them sipping champagne and wondering whether the investment of money, time and effort in this whole EXPO thing had been worth while. Of course, he'd had his reasons. The primary one was to drum up opportunities for Queen Consolidated. After the very public self destruction of the company over the last year it was essential for him to find new investment and build trust with a city - and the wider public - so that they became a growth company again. On balance, however, this parade of crazed entrepreneurial spirit wasn't, on the surface anyway, going to help that process. Maybe Luther had been right. Maybe this was a sideshow and maybe he just wasn't cut out for this business.

He was just about to listen to a man called Freis tell him about cryogenic chambers and their impact on treating disease when Felicity slid her arm into his and began to pull him away.

"Please excuse us," she said hurriedly to Oliver's audience. "I need Mr Queen's for a few minutes."

Oliver smiled at the scientist, who looked slightly aggrieved at him leaving, and gave his best 'be right back' look and followed Smoak's lead towards another part of the room where Diggle was waiting.

"Okay," Oliver sighed, "this is madness. What did you guys turn up?"

"Beside uncovering that virtually everyone in this room is a whacko?" Felicity offered. " Not much."

"I did find out something about Luthor's little floor show," Diggle said. Oliver raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "I was checking in with the hotel security chief and he gave me the low down on Luthor. He's booked out and entire floor of the hotel for the equipment and his security staff."

"Did we know about this?" quizzed Oliver, his face creasing into a harsh frown.

"No. He booked ahead," Diggle said, shrugging. "I wasn't told about it even though we've been discussing security for weeks. Apparently Luthor's a law unto himself. Apparently, the network relay has an independent power source and Luthor has a team of technicians working twenty four seven on it."

"That doesn't sound good," said Oliver. "Why?"

"Maybe the generator is experimental," theorised Felicity. "If so, it could be unstable. He's need to keep it monitored."

"Sounds plausible," Oliver nodded.

"I'll have more of a feel of what's happening form now on," Diggle held up an ear piece. "It's surprising what a little persuasion can do."

Oliver giggled and clapped his friend on the shoulder. He then became distracted by a vibration coming from his jacket pocket. He slid he hand inside and withdrew a smartphone.

"Who's calling the vigilante hotline?" joked Diggle. Oliver grinned.

"Lance," he said simply, silencing the phone and sloping it back into his pocket. "It can wait."

He turned back to the others and said: " It may be an idea to have a look around the device Luthor's got upstairs, this city doesn't need another disaster."

"The floor's locked down," said Diggle. "You won't get up there."

"Maybe this isn't a job for me, per se," said Oliver winking.

"I think it may have to wait," said Felicity tugging at Oliver's sleeve. "The entertainment is about to start."

A melodic ringing filled the air and they suddenly became aware that the steady drone of background noise was falling away. They turned to see Luthor standing in the middle of the room with a glass raised in one hand. In the other he held a pen, which he was tapping rhythmically against the glass.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Luthor began," it is a great honour to be here today as a guest of this city and of Mr Queen, without whom this would not be possible."

Luthor waived vaguely in Oliver's direction, having spies him earlier, and led a burst of congratulatory applause to which Oliver smiled off.  
"Who actually gave him permission to demonstrate this relay?" he whispered to Digggle out of the corner of his mouth.

"He didn't so much as ask for permission," the other man replied, "as made it a condition of his attendance."

"So if we'd said 'no'," queried Oliver, "he wouldn't've come?"

"You don't say 'no' to Lex Luthor," exhaled Diggle.

"Is that so, John?" hummed Oliver, "Is that so?"

When they retuned their attention to the big man, he had somehow conjured a screen from thing air and there where vaguely complex diagrams covering its surface. The drawings made little sense to Oliver. Digggle shrugged his own confusion when Queen passed him a quizzical look. It appeared that only Felicity, who had donned her spectacles for closure inspection, was taking enough notice of what was being said to be interested.

Oliver turned to her and began to say something when the room was engulfed in darkness. The lights had already been dimmed for Luthor's presentation so this wasn't a massive change in visibility. However, the screen displaying his graphics also went dark. Screams of panic and cries of confusion spread through the audience. The hotel security security chief's voice could be heard asking for calm and stating that the emergency lighting would be kicking in soon.

"There's a power outage," Diggle hissed to Oliver.

"Now's a good time to see what's Luthor's up to," Oliver whispered back. "Cover for me."

"Twenty sixth floor," Diggle said, his finger touching the comlink in his ear. "There's all sorts of panic going on up there."

"I'm right on it," Oliver replied and, after squeezing Felicity's shoulder as way of a goodbye, left the party through the fire exit and headed up the stairs.

In planning this evening's event Oliver and Diggle had scouted the area surrounding the main ballroom for possible security risks. This involved establishing those places where bombs could be secreted and gunmen could hide away. An advantage of being able to coordinate such an exercise was that they were able to locate a suitable place for a set of vigilante gear: leggings, hooded top, quarrel and Ollie's spare bow. After a quick change, he fired a line up the stairwell and held on as it pulled up him up to the twenty sixth floor.

Once he was at the required landing, he pushed open the fire escape door quietly and entered the floor. He could hear the yells of confusion and the barking of orders as Luthor's security detachment set to work to protect the technology housed in the penthouse. The emergency lighting had come into play so the whole scene was washed in dull orange. There was enough light to see however there wasn't enough to observe the details of objects. This was to his advantage and, flattening himself to the wall he began to move in the direction of the commotion.

It wasn't long before he saw a throng of what looked like lightly armed troops standing guard over a door and a number of white coated technicians looking worried in the semi darkness. There was obviously panic afoot, and the wariness of the technicians made Oliver think there was mistrust between these two factions.

"It looks like the floor's been breached," whispered Oliver into his throat mike.

"Has the emergency lighting come on?" Felicity's voice cackles in his ear. "We seem to have some order here. Mr Luthor's not happy though. I think he may be on his way up."

"I'll look out for him," said Oliver and began to move down the corridor away from the guards. It was obvious that the heavily guarded room was where the machine was being kept. It was also obvious that unless someone had their own private army, they went getting in there. Alive anyway. Oliver weighed up the alternatives and decided that if someone was aiming to steal the technology (or sabotage it even) they may have already decided that it was a bad idea and was looking for a way out. That's said, the options available would be limited. He ticked them off in his head, narrowing them down: There was the stairwell where he had emerged from, the lift which was powered down, which left the roof.

Checking he was away from guards he ran down the corridor to the door that led to the roof exit. Once there he gingerly opened the door and peeked inside. Darkness shrouded the stairs beyond and, he knew, it would also hide anything else that was lurking. Knowing there was no other alternative he heaved the door open and started up the stairs. The door to the roof was already open and he dived through, rolling onto the roof beyond, coming up into a kneeling attack stance with his bow in hand, arrow notched.

For fleeting second he saw a figure: a woman dressed in a black tight fitting jump suit, goggles and a skull cap that looked as, we'll, if it had ears? She noticed him instantly and threw her arm downwards in a sharp arc. The result was a brilliant, white light that burned into Oliver's eyes. For a second he was blinded. He rubbed his eyes furiously and tried to stand. By the time he'd orientated himself the woman had vanished and he could hear the guards on the stairs below. Now was a good time for an exit. Still a little dazed he laughed another arrow into the air and rose the line down into the night below.


	2. Chapter 2

It was easy for Felicity Smoak to recall her past before she came to Queen Consolidated. She'd often reminisce about its linear simplicity; its sense of overwhelming boredom and finality. It was easy, with hindsight, to view that uncomplicated period of her life as perhaps a better place. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd been shot at or abducted during her time at high school or college. Or make that no hands. Likewise, she could recount in great detail how many times she'd been party to some life or death conversations during her time as an IT analyst and data specialist. That was, never. However, whilst the move to being Oliver Queen's personal assistant didn't seem like a major step up on the cater ladder. And, given her technical talents, didn't really provide her with the basis with which to broaden her horizons. Also, it should be mentioned, she wasn't one for cocktail parties and mingling with the 'in crowd'. And she also wasn't that found of cocktails. On the plus side, she did get to aid and abet a known criminal and costumes vigilante. And she also got to eaves drop on conversations between two very powerful people.

From her seat at her desk she had a view into Oliver's office through the glass partition wall that separated them. Currently he was sat at his desk deep in animated conversation with Lex Luther. The man had turned up unannounced with about twenty or so security people, barged into Oliver's office and, basically, occupied it like an invading army. The man from Metropolis was standing and pointing. The man from Starling City was sitting and, possibly, listening. The debate was animated in the extreme and Felicity was sure, at one point, Luther was either going to pull a gun on Oliver or hit him. Whilst she thought that neither option was palatable, she would love to have seen Luther going toe to toe with Oliver in a fist fight. Her guy would win.

The elevator chimed to announce its arrival and John Diggle hurriedly stepped out into the office. His face lined with concern and purpose as his strode towards Smoak's desk and stood beside her, placing his hands on the hardwood surface and leaning over so his head was virtually the same height as hers.

"I came as soon as you called," he said in soft urgent tones. "What's going on?"

"Well," Felicity said, switching her gaze from the boardroom to Diggle, "we've been invaded y Lex Corps. I think this my be the start of a hostile takeover."

"Hostile? Yes," said Diggle. " I'm not sure he's here to take over. What's Oliver's view of this?"

"He's been quite calm so far," Smoak said, turning her attention back to the glass walled room ahead of her. Queen, seated at his desk flashed her a glance and, seeing Diggle, gave discrete nod.

"You wanna listen in to the circus?" she asked the big man standing next to her. He offered a thin smile and took the tiny earpiece she held up. Sidling around to the other side of the desk he dropped into a chair and placed the plastic receiver into his ear with a clandestine move. Felicity picked up a more conventional headset and clipped it over her ear. Instantly, the conversion from the room beyond flooded their ears. Luther was yelling.

"...put a multimillion dollar operation at risk, Queen! I should sue you and this godforsaken city for the amateurish way it conducted security. Do you know what was at stake? How many copyrights could have been compromised? This is a very serious matter, Queen."

"Well," Oliver said, his hands rising as an open gesture of reconciliation, "I'm sure once the police get onto -"

"No police!" barked Luthor. "Can you honestly believe that I would trust a corrupt and under resourced body with the investigation of such a serious nature? I will ensure the investigation is carried out to a satisfactory conclusion, Queen."

"Well," Oliver said again, he moved his head slowly around to face Felicity and again gave a hidden nod, " in that case, I'll assist in any way I can."

"Just keep out of my way," said Luthor. "And be prepared for litigation. This could be expensive. For you."

Oliver raised an eyebrow and forced a smile. "Then we have nothing more to talk about," he said. "It's been great meeting you again, Mr Luthor," he stood and raised his arm in the direction of the door. "Please leave your details with my assistant and we'll be in touch."

Luthor snorted and gave a signal to his team.

"They're coming out," Felicity said in a rasping whisper across the desk to Diggle. The big man, under the pretence of scratching his ear, removed the tiny earphone an secreted in his pocket. Felicity began to type a fictional document on her computer which didn't come under any scrutiny as Luthor's blue suited security team swept past and entered the lift. Luthor didn't even acknowledge the existence of either Smoak or Diggle, choosing instead to answer his 'phone and hold yet another loud, aggressive and rude conversation. Then, as the lift doors closed to drown out the cackle of him talking, Luthor was gone.

Felicity gave a massive sigh of relief. Diggle let out a chuckle.

"Man," he exclaimed. "How does a guy get on so well in life being such a jackass?"

"Money," sad Oliver from the doorway if his office. "And power. Mostly money though."

"This guy's a jerk," said Felicity. " And an obnoxious one at that."

"That's a fair description," mused Oliver. "You guys want to get a coffee? It's kind of stuffy in here."

The coffee shop was about three blocks from the Queen Consolidated building and, save for a number of mothers with baby buggies and an elderly couple reading the daily newspaper, Oliver and his two companions were the only customers. Looking around, Diggle could probably see why. The walls, which once had been white, had turned yellowish over time through exposure to nicotine and grime. The furniture featured cracks and tears that had never been repaired and bore the hallmarks of neglect. The radio, perched high on a shelf above the main bar, constantly played Country music at a volume not loud enough to be intrusive, but not quiet enough to be ignored. The staff, however were happy and brought the three lattes Oliver ordered over to their table with some haste.

"So", said Diggle, taking another look around the premises from his seat in the booth, "remind me why we're having this conversation in a coffee shop."

"Oh, a couple of reasons," Oliver chimed back, thanking the waitress and sipping the latte. "Firstly, there's no better place to have a private conversation that in public. And secondly, I don't trust Luthor not to have bugged my office."

"Sensible," said Diggle nodding in agreement.

"So," continued Oliver, "what do we know about what happened last night?"

"The scene's on lock down," said Diggle. "Luthor's men are all over the Plaza. No one in, no one out. Not even the police. I couldn't get close."

"That doesn't surprise me," chuckled Oliver. "He's not the biggest fan of Starling Citiy's finest." He turned to Felicity. "Do we have any information on why anyone would want to steal or sabotage his machine?"  
Feleicity sipped her latte with some curiosity. It just didn't seem right somehow. She looked up at Oliver and instantly forgot the sour taste in her mouth.

"Oh," she said, "there's nothing on the relay network on any of the technology websites or in any publication. This looks like it was the first time it was going to be demonstrated. It was fresh out of the box."

"Okay," said Diggle, nodding. "What does it do?"

"Well," said Felicity, "it looks pretty amazing: It's a self contained, wireless telecoms network. It utilises redundant satellites to provide low cost telecoms and internet services. It has a self perpetuating power source so it's virtually carbon neutral and, given the fact that it works on the principles of the usual cellular networks it doesn't take up much room." She suddenly became aware that the other two were looking at her with intent. She switched her eyes quickly from one to the other, catching their gaze with a counter challenge.

"Didn't you see the presentation?" She asked. "It was cool."

"I was kind of busy," said Oliver smiling.

"Yeah," said Diggle, adjusting his tie. "Likewise."

"So," said Oliver, "we know what it is, and where it is. Any idea what our mystery intruder wanted? Bearing in mind the room it was taking up, it's too big to steal."

"Yeah," said Felicity, becoming more enthusiastic. " it consists of a ground station which is hooked up to a satellite receiver. That's going to be the size of a couple of desks max. Plus its external power source. Luthor didn't go into any details in the presentation but to provide the amount of juice needed to power that technology, it's got to be pretty big. I mean huge."

Oliver visibly jumped as a hum rose from his jacket pocket making his chest vibrate. He smiled an 'excuse me' at Felicity and dug his hand into his interior pocket. He withdrew the phone and checked the number. Lance again. Punching the reject call button he turned back to Smoak whose enthusiasm was still visible on her face.

"Sorry," said Oliver. The call overshadowed how impressed he's been with her knowledge and could only offer a muted, deflated response. "Not portable, then?"

"Not a chance," said Felicity, shaking her head and, forgetting the sour taste, sipped her latte again. She winced.

"It looks like our thief was more a saboteur," said Diggle.

"Could be," Oliver nodded in agreement. "What about the security tapes from The Plaza?"

"I've asked for all the feeds from the in house team," said Diggle. "I'll get them sent over later. Although I doubt we'll get the ones for floor twenty six. My guess is Luthor would have deleted those by now."

"We could hack their servers," Felicity offered, pushing her coffee away. "There'll be an imprint on the hard drives that I can probably reconstruct. It'll be a long process but it could help."

"Sounds good," said Oliver, also deciding his latte wasn't up to the mark. "Also, let's see what we can get on this intruder. John, check back at the hotel see if anyone saw her enter."

"No problem," Diggle said, scrutinising the contents his cup. "I'll be right on it."

"Sounds like a plan," said Oliver. "Now, I've got a conference to get to. Although, should we need an away-day again, remind me not to come here."

"I'll second that," said Smoak. And the three of them stood and walked out. Not leaving a tip.

The Starling City conference centre was awash with people from virtually all walks of life. Whilst the press and security made up the vast amount of the population outside the venue, jostling with each other for the best position to either get close to a big industrialist or keep people away from said industrialists, a large amount of the crowd consisted of protesters with placards and banners bearing anti establishment and environmental slogans. They chanted in unison like a perverse church choir and brandished their banners at anyone who pulled up in a car or taxi.

Oliver had warned both Thea and Roy what to expect and, regardless of the bleakness of the intelligence he'd managed to glean from his people at the venue, it hasn't dampened their spirits. Roy especially. Oliver had challenged him over what he was going to see at the EXPO, bearing in mind the youngster had never been to the conference centre before, let alone a conference. Roy had shrugged and said simply: "Computers and stuff." Ollie had nodded sagely.

The limo pulled up outside the large venue and was quickly swarmed by suited security. Oliver, Thea and Roy debussed and were quickly ushered into the venue by the Dean of the local university. He apologise profusely for the crowds outside and expressed his unhappiness at the protestors.

"It's all publicity," said Oliver, reassuring him that there was nothing he could've done differently. "People find fault in anything. It's their right to. Just let it go."

The Dean nodded uncertainly and ushered the party into the main hall. The main room of the convention centre was like a huge, steel clad cavern. The floor was crammed with stalls and exhibits where trade specialists, innovators, geniuses and crackpots stood shoulder to shoulder in an attempt to showcase their wares. Oliver could sense his sister's tension. It was almost as visible as her boyfriend's excitement. He turned to them and, before letting them off the leash (with a troop if security guards, naturally), he gave them strict instructions not to buy anything, agree to find anything or volunteer for anything. They nodded an drifted off into the crowd. Oliver watched them go and, taking his detachment of security people with him headed off to seek out more information on Luthor.

It was difficult to navigate through the crowds as he was almost instantly recognised and pulled into conversations about a project or an invention that someone wanted him to be party to. For instance, he was offered a chance to aid the development of a cryogenic chamber, by a company called Freis Inc. And the chance to help fund the development of non toxic nerve gas by Ace Chemicals. They sounded great projects but none of them would get him closer to Luthor. Until he chanced upon someone that had been pointed out the previous night. Whilst he hadn't had the chance to make polite (or otherwise) conversation, he headed over to the man and extended a hand in greeting.

"Jervis Tetch I take it," said Oliver as the other man limply clutched Queen's outstretched hand and shook it warily. "We haven't met. You have, though, met my assistant."

"Oh?" said the other man, his voice wavering as a fear grew within him. He managed to stammer a response: "A-and who might you be?"

"I'm Oliver Queen," said the blonde man, his eyes widening. "This is my party." He waved his hands expansively, slightly over doing the eccentric benefactor role. Then he added, sotye voce: "Felicity says hi, by the way."

"Right," said Tetch looking confused. He was a short and spindly man, with wild red hair and a ruddy complexion that have him the look of a mad scientist. He wore a lab coat that looked as though it had grown its own stains and just added to his chaotic appearance. "I thought you might me another one of Luthor's men come to check up on me."

The smile that had began to creep across Queen's face suddenly froze and was replaced by a frown. "What does Luthor want with you?" he asked.

"Oh, we're working on a joint venture," Tetch began. "Quite big actually. He's willing to fund some of my research into other areas if I help him with this."

"That sounds fascinating," Oliver said. He had to admit anything that Luthor was paying for was worth getting the low down on. However, it was also worth chancing his arm at discovering more about what went on the previous evening. "Does it have anything to do with his presentation last night?"

"Well," said Tetch, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, "it's funny you should say that..."

To say that Thea's and Roy's experiences at the EXPO had been different was probably an understatement. Miss Queen had spent the day circumventing the stalls looking for anything that she vaguely found interesting. However, finding no cosmetics, hair products or manicure procedures on offer she had felt bored out of her mind and found solace in the perfunctory coffee bar that sold only synthetic coffee. It had tasted like she imagined hot mud would. Roy, on the other hand was wired. He had been in the company of probably the cleverest and most brilliant people he'd ever met. Therefore, he had been exposed to things he'd knew before thought possible.

The ride home in the limousine was, therefore, like a war of attrition, Oliver thought: Roy's excitement exploding over them and Thea's apathy grousing them again.

"There was this one guy," enthused Roy. "A doctor at S.T.A.R labs. Doctor Stone. He was talking about pathetic robotics for people who've lost limbs. You know, that work along with your nerves and stuff to work like a real leg or arm! Man, is was incredible."

"You're right," said Thea. "It does sound pathetic."

"I think you mean 'sympathetic'," said Oliver smiling. Roy considered this and nodded in agreement. Thea rolled her eyes as the boys chuckled. A light buzzing from Oliver's jacket pocket cut the conversation short. He withdrew the phone and checked the number. I was Officer Lance again. Usually, the policeman would leave a message and that would be it. Over that last few days, he'd been more persistent however. Oliver stifled the call and knocked on the partition glass between him and the driver. It instantly slid down to reveal Diggle's relief.

"Hey," said Oliver, "change of plan. could you drop me at the office first, please? Then take these lovebirds home."

The driver nodded and raised the partition again.

"Okay," said Oliver, spinning an arrow around his fingers like a majorette in a marching band, "what have we got?"

After a very quick pit stop at Queen Consolidated to pick up Smoak, he had called Diggle and instructed him to meet them at the operations base below the club. Whilst Oliver paced the room, occupying his hands with the arrow, the others sat at one of the desks shuffling their thoughts in anticipation of being asked a question.

"The guys at the hotel weren't saying anything about the break in," Diggle sighed, frustration cut deep furrows in his forehead. "The way they see it, it was just a power outage. Nothing else."

"They wiped the security feeds too," Felicity chimed. "Plus their server is locked down so tight it'll take a miracle to get into it."

"So nothing," said Oliver, tossing the arrow around his hand. He then turned to Felicity and said: "Although, I did run into your friend, Tetch, at the EXPO this afternoon."

"Your interpretation of the word 'friend' is slightly different to mine," she said, arching an eyebrow. "What did he have to say for himself?"

"Well," said Oliver, approaching the desk and placing both hands on its surface to bring himself almost level with his colleagues, "it seems that Luthor was willing to fund some of the riskier elements of Tetch's research in exchange for him working on Luthor's network."

"What sort of research are we talking here?" asked Diggle.

"Please, don't tell me he's an avid biologist!" Felicity protested. Oliver grinned.

"No," he said, chuckling. "Nothing like that. He's looking at mind control. You know, hypnosis. The power of suggestion."

"How does that fit in with Luthor's plan?" asked Diggle.

"I'm not sure," said Queen. "But, from what Tetch was saying, the machine at the Plaza wasn't the only one. Luthor has a network active in Starling City. It's his pilot. If this is successful he launches nationwide."

"Good for him," said Diggle. Felicity frowned.

"Do you know where the other relays are?" she asked.

Oliver shook his head. "Tetch didn't know," he explained. "But if we could find out maybe we could catch our thief."

"He didn't give you any clue as to where they could be?" asked Diggle.

Oliver shrugged. "It wasn't in his remit to know," he said. "Bearing in mind what the network will offer, I guess it will be somewhere high. Buildings?"

"Did he mention what his technology will do?" asked Felicity, nervously tapping a pen on the desk top.

"It's essentially a telecoms network," Oliver sighed. "Even I caught that from Luthor's presentation. But Tetch has given him an edge which he didn't explain last night. The network also transmits a low level frequency that can be used to alter people's perception making them open to suggestion. If makes them a captive audience for aggressive marketing."

"Wow!" exclaimed Felicity. "Did not see that coming!"

"Okay," grunted Diggle, impatience showing on his face, "how is this going to help us catch our intruder?"  
"I don't know," Oliver shrugged. "I don't know if it's relevant. I don't even know if we should even try to help Luther. If his technology gets stolen so be it."

"Come on," said Felicity. " Even if baldy's done nothing wrong, there's still the fact that he didn't want the cops involved."

"True," said Oliver. "And speaking of cops..."

His phone buzzed again.

Her employers hadn't been impressed with her failure. They had pointed out, on the protracted early morning 'phone call, that she had come highly recommended as the best her 'profession' had to offer. She on the other hand suggested they sack their intelligence team because they obviously didn't have any. That raised some eyebrows and maybe forced them to reconsider their strategy concerning Luthor. If they had been keeping tabs on such a high profile target, surely they must have known his security arrangements. Surely they must have known he doesn't travel anywhere without an army comparable to that of a South American revolutionary movement. They hadn't a answers.

The failed heist at the Plaza was a setback, they said, but there were alternatives. If she was still up for the job. She'd raised an eyebrow: who else was there that could do this and keep under the radar? Were they going to send a SWAT team? Some SEALs? She didn't think so. This was unofficial business and they wanted it kept that way. She suggested that they stop barking at her like a chihuahua and let her get on with it. Reluctantly, the voice on the other end agreed.

Which was why she was dressed in a smart business suit, along with killer heels, just getting out of a cab outside the semi occupied Schuster Building in downtown Starling City. She paid the fare (this was an honest service after all) and stepped into the foyer of the building hoisting a rucksack over her shoulder and taking interest in the name plates that were screwed to the wall.

"Can I help you, Ma'am?" asked the underworked security guard from behind his newspaper. He was lounging back in his chair with feet firmly up on the curved desk that housed a multitude of screens.

"Yes," she said brightly, flicking her long dark hair idly with her hand. "I'm Ophelia Day I'm with the Sunset Project."

"Sixth floor," barked the guard, not asking for ID. "Elevators are on your left."

She thanked him and called the elevator. Once inside, instead of punching six, she pressed the highest number available. Once the lift started to move she reached into the rucksack and removed its contents. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a Hallowe'en costume forged from a diving suit. She knew better though and quickly slipped out of the business suit and into the tight fitting jumpsuit. Her flowing long hair was detached from her head, revealing a closer crop that, even to the casual observer, accentuated her immaculately striking bone structure.

After stowing the day clothes in the rucksack, she pulled a tight fitting hood over her head, which covered her shirt hair but left her face exposed, and positioned a set of night vision goggles on her forehead. She idly touched the sides or her head with gloved fingers brushing the slight protrusions. Okay, she thought, they do look like ears. Then, reached back into the bag for a belt laden with pouches and a coil of what looked like rope.

The elevator pinged announcing its arrival on the twenty fifth floor.

"Top of shop," she mumbled to herself. "Let's go to work."

The doors opened into an empty open plan office. Oddly, her employer's intelligence had been correct: this part of the building wasn't occupied. However, there did seem to be about half a dozen security guards milling around. Most of them were playing cards or drinking coffee but froze once she walked out of the lift.

"Hi boys," she said in a mock friendly tone. "I seem to be lost. Can anyone help a girl?"

Despite her odd appearance, and the fact that they weren't expecting anyone, the guards reacted quickly. They instantly ceased their activities and began to walk towards her.

"You can't be up her miss," one said, reaching for his walkie-talkie. The last thing she wanted was for her cover to be blown, so she needed to act fast.

"Oh," she trilled, "I've got a pass and everything."

"Really?" said another guard. "Show me."

"Well," the woman said, touching her lip with her tongue. "If you insist..."

The guards, whilst greater in number, were still at a disadvantage. She leapt at one, somersaulting in the air and smashing her boots into his face. He was out cold before he hit the floor. Before the others could react, she kicked the nearest one in the face, then caught another with a measures punch to the face. She vaulted the third and landed another two footed knock out kick on the fifth. Crouching on the floor she swept the legs of the guard she just jumped over and pounced onto him knocking him out by banging his head on the floor.

The remaining three guards got to their feet groggily.

"Aw," she trilled, "you guys still want to play?"

They looked around in a daze, observing their fallen colleagues and wondering what had happened. Due to their current state they wee will prepared for what happened next: the woman took and few steps backwards them launched into a cartwheel. As she landed she twisted up and scissor kicked two of the remaining guards in the side of the head. Her momentum carried her onto the final guard and her fists caught him square in the face and drove him backwards across the carpeted floor. None of the men moved. She surveyed her work and smiled to herself. Then, she located a fire escape and made her way to the roof.

Once out in the open she could see the sun setting over the city. It's red hue bathing the granite spires. The way the light reflected off the glass on the windows of the towers made her think of a glitterball she had once owned as a child. It had been her only possession. Some days she would spend hours spinning it around on its thin string, watching the light from the dim bulbs dance over its surface. Enthralling her; entrancing her.

She smiled to herself as the memories of simpler times came back to her. Times when she would have to hide from bullies in the orphanage on the fire scape or secret food away into hidden pockets. Times when she would dream of being a ballet dancer or a gymnast and competing at the Olympics or in Mosocow.

"And where are you now?" she asked out loud. "On a roof waiting for night to fall so you can steal some industrial secrets. You've certainly come up in the world."

After finally taking the call from Lance, Queen wandered back to join the others and found both Felicity and Diggle huddled around a computer screen, having a very excitable debate.

"This seems cosy," said Oliver." You guys finally got to another level on PacMan?"

"Good one," Diggle chuckled," but I think Ms Smoak here has been able to uncover Luther's other relays."

Oliver looked impressed and wandered over and joined the huddle. On the computer screen was a series of multi coloured patches. It made little sense to him and he offered both if his friends a blank look. Felicity caught his eye and smiled mysteriously. Then cocked an eyebrow and said: "Impressive, huh?"

"I'd say yes, if I knew what I was looking at," said Oliver truthfully. He shrugged at Diggle who grinned back.

"This is a satellite picture of Starling City," the other man said, tapping the screen. "What we've done is overlay it with the heat signature map from last night."

"Well," said Oliver, "it looks very pretty. How is this going to help."

Diggle indicated that Felicity should explain as she did:

"Any generator powering a big electrical device is going to get quite hot," she began. "The one powering the relay is no exception. It gives off a certain heat signature that's quite unique. All I had to do was look at the satellite pictures from last night and search for similar heat signatures and I'd find the other relays."

"In theory," said Oliver a tinge of realism over coming him.

"In theory," said Felicity. Whilst she'd never questioned Oliver over his motives before she did get the impression that he was being slightly negative about this. "But that's what we need to help us find our intruder."

"How?" asked Oliver. "I wasn't aware they were attracted to heat?"

Diggle cut in. "Look," he said bluntly. "We find the buildings that house these relays. We look as the security arrangements and the one that's the least protected we stake out."

"Because our cat burglar will do the same?" asked a sarcastic Oliver. Felcity sighed.

"If they've taken the time to find out about the relays," she said, exasperated," they'll have done their home work too. Most are in office blocks. The taller the better, I suppose."

"Okay, okay," Oliver raised his hands in defeat. "Are they any likely candidates?"  
She pulled a pained face. "Most of them have quite a lot of security around them."

"That should be e real problem, should it," asked Oliver, sensing that it probably could be.

"This isn't usually security," Diggle interjected. "This is top end military, state of the art stuff." He tapped the screen and indicted that Oliver should look. "Not of these sites have invested in stuff that NASA don't even have. Heat sensors, sentry guns, infrared mines. Man, this is serious kit."

"The only one where the security probably can be breached is here," Felicity pointed to a glowing yellow blob on the screen. "Perez Tower. It has a small security force and no other counter measures other than an alarm. I guess it's remoteness and sheer architecture should be enough the dissuade even the most persistent of thieves."

"Then that's our guy," said Oliver. "Good work."

"What did Lance want?" asked Diggle in reference to Oliver's recent phone call.

"Oh," said Oliver. "Nothing really. He wants to meet up. I'll catch up with him later." Then, rubbing his hands together, he said: " Let's plan the attack on the Perez pad."


End file.
